“What are we going to do now?” Bee asked as she pulled herself up into her saddle.

  She gazed over the tents pitched with no organization, each standing where the ground had been flat enough to take it. To put it in the best possible light, the folk sitting out the front of each tent were morose. Nobody was queueing by the gate, demanding entry. They were undoubtedly aware of the situation within the walls, and Bee wondered why they had remained on the plains.

  “Why are they staying?” Dornálaí asked as if reading her thoughts.

  “Because they’ve nowhere else to go,” Finn said. “We should head to the Gap, I reckon. They mightn’t have finished this doorless barrier yet.”

  “That’s twelve leagues or more to the start of the Gap, so it is,” Bee said, frowning. “A full day’s ride. Bit of a slog for maybe, d’ye think?”

  “Aye. You’ve any better suggestions?”

  As she considered the question, she watched Dornálaí. He appeared to have something on his mind—something he wasn’t ready to share. Shrugging, she said, “Come. The longer we sit here talking it through, the longer it’ll take to get there.”

  By the time they were riding up the Eastern Road, the evening shadows were long. They could see the southernmost point of the North Forest as a darker shade on the horizon. There would be no chance of reaching the forest before night fell, so Bee suggested they camp and start fresh with the dawn. They were tired and no less irritable than before they’d had their audience with King Ochall.

  Once Finn had the fire alight and the cauldron on to heat their oats and mutton, they sat in silence. Bee was struggling with how best she might use the situation to her advantage. Having two allies who were hiding something, probably on the orders of her master, was vexing her and not a little. Dornálaí’s claim that Bren was searching for a weapon was no less troubling. An Dagda had not mentioned any weapon. He told her that Bren discovered the portal’s existence through another of the Gods. Although he didn’t state it outright, the implication was that Danu was the Goddess in the mix. He also told her that Bren’s interference in the Five Kingdoms would have disastrous consequences on the finite balance he’d created.

  “He’s going to try to contact Myrddin. Whatever happens, they must not meet,” An Dagda had said as he led her to the gate.

  “Myrddin is south, why is he starting in the Western Wastes?”

  “Forgive my saying so, but your brother is not the brightest star in the night. He is doing as instructed. Whoever is playing this game wants me to know. Changing the portal glyph was a sure way of telling me without actually telling me.”

  “And ye’re sure it’s a game?”

  “Yes. The one I suspect is often playing games.”

  “Who is it?”

  “I will not voice my suspicions, Bechuille, in case I am wrong.”

  And so now, here she was, sitting before a fire, wondering whether her suspicions were correct. Was it Danu playing with him? She thought it probably was. The words between the roundhouses were that their split had been a harsh experience for them. There was room for rancor on both sides of the divide.

  And here I am, sitting on a plain in the middle of what caused it.

  She thought the Fáithe, led by the Morrígan, were being particularly ominous. An owl hooted, and she looked across the open plain. All she could see were the lights of several campfires. Whatever danger the folk of West Kingdom feared, it didn’t appear to have manifested. And yet Bheara was voicing her premonitions into the dark. When the owl called, death would be sure to follow.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Bee shuddered.

  “Are you cold?” Finn asked.

  “Aye. A little.”

  “Here,” he said, handing her a bowl of oats. “That’ll warm you, or my name ain’t Finn.”

  Nodding her thanks, Bee took a break from her thoughts while she ate.

  “Why is it trackers are always good cooks?” Dornálaí asked.

  “That’s one of the eternal questions, so it is,” she said.

  “Eternal questions?”

  “Aye. Like why’s the sky blue, or the sea in constant motion.”

  “Good questions. Sure, I’m too tired to debate them now,” the ringfighter said. “I am for my bedroll.”

  “Aye, it’s gonna be a long one tomorrow, I reckon,” Finn agreed.

  Bee watched the two roll themselves in their blankets while wondering what had happened to the idea of politeness, where the lady got to sleep while the men stood watch. Sighing, she wrapped her blanket around her shoulders and stared at the stars twinkling in the sky. Had she not known that An Dagda hadn’t created the Five Kingdoms in the true sense but sought a land on a parallel plane and populated it with the descendants of the Tuatha, she would have considered the stars a wondrous creation. As such, the night stars had already been here when he sent his human vassals in to conquer the native peoples, the Fomorii.

  What exactly did you create but a world of strife?

  Closing her eyes for a moment, Bee was startled by the hoot of an owl much closer and louder than the previous hoot. Looking at the bedrolls, she saw that neither of her companions had been disturbed, which she found surprising, considering how loud it had sounded.

  Scanning the darkness, she drew in a sharp breath when she saw what appeared to be a huge man standing thirty or forty paces away from their fire, which was now just glowing embers.

  I must have fallen asleep, she realized.

  What she couldn’t understand was how she could even see the man. It was as if he was faintly glowing, providing her with an outline to see. As she watched, he gestured with an arm. Bee found herself unable to resist the call, and before she knew what she was doing, she was striding into the darkness toward the strange man.

  When she drew close, he turned and walked a few paces away before vanishing. Running to see where he’d gone, Bee realized he’d walked down into a depression deep enough to hide him.

  “Come, Bechuille, we need to talk,” he said, sitting on a rock.

  “Who are you, and how do you know my name?”

  “We are the Trí Dée Dána—”

  “We?” Bee asked.

  In answer, he nodded over her shoulder, and she turned to see two other massive Tuatha men standing behind her. She’d heard of the three Gods of art: the Smith, the Silversmith, and the Carpenter. They were not Gods she knew to see, and she wondered what they were doing in the Five Kingdoms.

  “Ye’re far from home,” she said.

  “As are you.”

  “How did you get here?”

  “We’re not here, Bechuille. You are dreaming.”

  “So, why are you visiting my dreams?”

  “To warn you that Danu has given your brother information for the necromancer he could use to unleash the demon horde out of the cycle. Such a release would be catastrophic for the Five Kingdoms and possibly for the Fae Realm. You must stop him.”

  “But how? He has several days’ head start, and now the road is closed.”

  “Not all roads are overland. Listen to the ringfighter.”

  “Why do you not visit Brenós and tell him of the potential catastrophe?”

  “Because Danu has beguiled him. He will not listen to us. Also, we cannot be seen to take sides.”

  “Aye, I can see the logic, so I can. But I’m sorry, I’m still confused. Are you not taking sides by visiting my dreams?”

  “But you will not tell Danu or An Dagda, so the illusion remains. Everyone can pretend they do not know. Did you not wonder why your master did not just tell you Danu was playing games?” She nodded. “Put simply, if he admits that he knows, then he must challenge her, and such a challenge is never one-to-one.”